


Waking Dreams

by RubberDuckSoup



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Bisexual Steve Rogers, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Happy Ending, M/M, No Smut, Pining, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Sick Steve, Superheroes, Survivor Guilt, Terminal Illnesses, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-06 10:13:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15883974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubberDuckSoup/pseuds/RubberDuckSoup
Summary: It's the day after the Snap and something isn't quite right with Steve.





	1. Chapter 1

In his dreams, Steve is small. Even the dreams about the war. He wears the suit and carries the shield, and he’s small. And sick. And short of breath. It feels natural. Every morning, for a few seconds, he feels like an imposter.

But only for a few seconds.

The morning after Thanos took everything away, Steve wakes more disoriented than usual. Since being declared a traitor by his government, Steve has grown accustomed to waking in unfamiliar places. Fury is usually good about sending them to safe-houses with decent beds. This bed is small, too small for what he now remembers is his actual size. It’s small but it smells familiar, safe. There’s another scent, less welcoming. Is that, he sniffs, goat?

Steve sits up and takes in the hut. Bucky’s hut. He recalls walking here alone, after the chaos, after figuring out that they’d lost. Everyone else had taken off to find out who else they’d lost.

As living quarters go it’s about the size of a single billet. Their old apartment in Brooklyn wasn’t much bigger. The hut is lightly furnished. There’s a single shelf on the wall. On it sits a cup containing a toothbrush, a pair of scissors, and a comb. Next to them is a stack of three books. The first is in Russian, but based on the pictures Steve is pretty sure it’s _Winnie the Pooh_. Under that is _The Little Prince_ in English. On the bottom is a notebook. Steve picks it up and puts it back four times before opening it.

All that is written is “Howard Stark, Maria Stark, ????”

Steve traces a finger over the tight, precise, letters. Buck’s handwriting never used to be so clean, but the way he shapes his A's and S's are familiar.

Steve takes a deep breath that feels oddly shallow and leaves the hut. Natasha is sitting against a tree, ignoring the goat chewing on her boot. She stands. She’d been watching the door, waiting for him to emerge.

“Romanoff.”

“Rogers.”

They both wait a beat. Steve caves first. “What are the orders?”

“We’re meeting at the palace. A debrief. Sort of. I’ve got a transport.” She turns and walks toward a Wakandan vehicle, parked in the distance. Steve has to jog a few steps to catch up to her.

The ride is smooth but too fast. It makes him dizzy. It’s like something out of that _Star Trek_ show Tony harangued him into watching. Steve hadn’t liked that one. Too many characters to keep track of. Too many insignificant casualties. And the uniforms were inconsistent.

They disembark and walk toward the palace. The capital is much emptier than it was just a day ago but still beautiful. Steve would like to explore it, when not in crisis mode. So probably never. He’d been hoping to visit Bucky soon. They’d only spoken over Skype since Bucky had come out of stasis. But now… No, he can't dwell on that yet. It won’t do any good.

All around them people pause as their beads chime an alert. Tiny projections of Queen Mother Ramonda sprout from their wrists, while larger ones appear at regular intervals. General Okoye is visible behind her.

“It falls on me to inform you that the rumors are true. My son, our king, is among the lost.” The news is met with collective sounds of shock and grief. “This calamity was not exclusive to Wakanda. Our loss, the loss of all the people now gone, is a loss we share with the entire world. I have spoken extensively with the council. It has been decided that I will serve as regent until the day my daughter, Shuri, T’Challa’s heir, comes of age. Later today I will be addressing the rest of the world. I will tell them what I now tell you. The blame for this tragedy lays solely on the head of an alien warlord known as Thanos. Some of you may know that Wakanda is currently hosting a small delegation of foreign visitors. Know this, they fought valiantly alongside my son, the Dora Milaje, and the Jabari warriors. They came close to turning the tide on our enemy. They remain welcome in Wakanda.”

Steve releases a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding. They were the reason Thanos had come to Wakanda. While it’s true Wakanda would’ve suffered losses along with the rest of the world, even if they hadn’t brought Vision and the Mind Stone here, the Queen Mother would’ve been justified in sending them packing— or worse. Natasha weaves through the crowd to the breathtaking royal palace. A building that feels to Steve like a Jules Verne concept as seen through the lens of Antoni Gaudi. The guards wave them through. Nat turns to the right and leads him up a set of stairs.

“Thor went to get Clint,” she says, “they’re on their way.”

“And his family?”

“Laura and the kids are okay.”

“Good. That’s good. So,” Steve says, “Bruce is back.”

“Uh hum.”

“Have you two…uh…talked?”

“No need. He left the planet, Steve. That spoke volumes.”

“Okay.” Steve agrees. “But well… you did push him off a cliff.”

Natasha pauses and turns around. “Really, Rogers? Really? You’re giving me relationship advice?”

“Not really but—“

“Stop right there. First, let’s establish your credentials. Remind me how long you were with Sharon Carter.”

“Elapsed or cumulative?”

“Uh huh, that’s what I thought.”

The Sharon thing is embarrassing. They had gotten together during a tumultuous period in his life. To put it mildly. He was mourning Peggy. Had found Bucky again. Tony was suddenly his enemy. And, as Sam put it, he’d just gone through a messy divorce from the US government. Sharon was kind, beautiful, a connection to Peggy, exactly what he needed in the moment. They’d kissed once and texted a few times before Steve broke it off. He’d been in the grip of so many feelings, and none of them were about her.

Nat gives him a smug nod and heads toward another flight of stairs. They climb in silence, allowing his mind to wander to the previous day. To the battle and the aftermath. His legs grow heavy.

“Why so many stairs?” He lowers himself into a sitting position.

“Steve?” Natasha stares down at him, her eyes narrowed.

“It really happened. Thanos. We couldn’t… we didn’t…” He gulps. “They’re all gone.”

Nat joins him on the step. “It’s not your fault. It’s no one’s fault but Thanos.”

“I know. I know. I’m sorry. We should get to the debrief.”

“It’s okay. We have time.”

They sit until Steve has composed himself. They take an elevator the rest of the way.

* * *

Their group has been assigned to a lavishly decorated suite. Colonel Rhodes and Bruce are already there. Soon Thor enters followed by Clint and a large man that Steve recognizes as the leader of the Jabari People.

“Hey.” Clint waves to the room and sits down next to Nat.

Colonel Rhodes turns to the large man. “No disrespect Chief M’Baku, but this is a closed meeting.”

“Oh yes, I understand. Of course. The people of Wakanda have no problem with a bunch of foreigners, aliens, and fugitives conspiring in private. Just one day after they lured an extraterrestrial-terrorist to our nation, leading to the death of our king.” M’Baku sits, fully occupying a chaise that should seat three. “You can have your conference. I’m not even here,” he whispers. “Go on, make your little plan.”

“Does that mean we have a plan?” Bruce asks.

“I have a plan,” Thor replies. “I plan to kill Thanos. As I said I would.”

“Yeah, but do you have a plan to do that?”

“Not… yet,” Thor admits.

“Let’s start with what we know.” Rhodes strides to the center of the room. “50 percent of the world’s population is gone. Presumably the rest of the universe as well, but we can’t confirm that. It does seem to have affected all inhabited areas of the planet equally, including plants and animals.”

“Wait, does that mean…?” Natasha interjects.

“The ratio of people to resources is nearly the same as it was before.”

There’s general cursing, M’Baku being the most vocal.

“Only around 10% of world leaders were affected. King T’Challa among them.” Rhodes continues. “Thanos’s current location is unknown.”

“He left,” Thor interrupts. “I saw him go. He’s not on Midgard anymore.”

“So, he could be anywhere in the Universe?” Clint gives an insincere thumbs up. “Great!”

Steve doesn’t know how to feel about that. He wants to hurt Thanos. A wound for every life he snuffed out. But that would mean another fight, more lives at stake. Steve’s stomach recoils at the thought of losing any of the people in this room. They’re too precious.

“Like I said, location unknown. I’ve just had a lengthy chat with the Secretary of State. Due to the extraordinary circumstances, those of us who were working outside the law have all been pardoned. And are now asked to reconsider the whole disavowing their country thing.”

“Wait someone here was an outlaw?” Bruce asks.

“A bunch of us, actually,” Clint replies. “But he’s mostly talking about Cap.”

“Whoa, really? Like Robin Hood?”

“Wasn’t as fun as Errol Flynn made it look.” Steve shrugs.

“Uh, if anyone is going to be Robin Hood…” Clint points to himself.

Rhodes clears his throat. “Can we continue?”

“Sorry, I missed some stuff. I was in space. Go ahead.”

“As of one hour ago, I am once again a member of the US military. I have been asked to serve as its representative until someone more important shows up. And that’s about all we know.” Rhodes sits back down.

“Fury is gone,” Nat adds. “So is Maria Hill. And my best contact within SHIELD. All they would tell me is that they’re doing a survey of active and former operatives to get a list.”

“A survey.” Clint snorts.

“We also lost Wanda and Vision.”

“Vision may be salvageable,” Bruce says, “though he probably won’t be the same.”

“Sam,” Steve says, his eyes on the floor. “Sam is gone. And Bucky.”

“We know. We didn’t forget them,” Nat assures him.

“Has anyone heard from Scott?” Clint asks.

“Dammit,” Natasha mutters. “That’s who I didn’t check on.”

“And Tony is missing,” Rhodes adds.

“He might be okay, though,” Bruce chimes in, sounding almost hopeful. “All we know is he went to space with this wizard from New York. I didn’t get his name.”

“Strange?” Thor asks.

“Pretty strange, yeah,” Bruce agrees.

“My brother is also dead,” Thor says and is met with silence. “Not from the…” He snaps his fingers. “Thanos broke his neck.”

“You sure?” Bruce asks. “‘Cause you told me about how you thought he was dead before.”

“I’m sure.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, buddy. He was… he was your brother.” Bruce pats Thor’s forearm.

Thor covers Bruce’s hand with his own and nods. “That he was. Loki did many unforgivable things. So many. But at the end, he helped to save our people from my sister. He got as many of them as he could into the lifeboats when Thanos attacked our ship. Then he gave Thanos the Space Stone.”

“Of course he did.” Bruce takes back his hand.

“He gave it up to save my life. He died trying to double-cross the Titan.”

“Oh, that does sound like him.”

“I will miss him.”

Steve tries to reconcile Thor’s description of a noble, self-sacrificing Loki with the sneering, manipulative killer he remembers. He can’t, but he can see the pain in Thor’s eyes. Steve didn’t have any siblings to lose. Sam had become like a brother. And Bucky was… Bucky. His head throbs. He stands.

“Steve, do you have something to add?”

“No, nothing, sorry. Just looking for the water.” He’s certain he saw a water-pitcher on his way in. M’Baku grabs his shoulder and turns him around to face a table with a full pitcher. “Thanks.” He pours himself a glass.

“Okay, this is probably a dumb question.”

“Go ahead, Clint.”

“Is it possible that the people who disappeared could come back?”

“They turned to dust.”

“Yeah. I know, but are we sure we can’t just, I don’t know, add water?”

Steve is very glad Natasha has never looked at him the way she is currently looking at Clint.

“I’m sorry. I’ve been told I sometimes react inappropriately to grief. What I meant was are we sure we can’t bring them back somehow?”

“Princess Shuri is looking into it. Her team has collected samples. They’re studying the atomic structure of the remains,” Bruce says.

“She’s very young and a bit spoiled and too much in love with the memes,” Chief M’Baku interjects, “but she’s brilliant and would do anything to get her brother back. If it can be done with science, she’ll do it.”

“What if it can be done some other way? Like what about the wizard Tony left with?” Clint asks.

“We don’t know where they are. Except space. Which in case you don’t know, is really really big,” Bruce says.

“My friend Rabbit is from space,” Thor offers. “He’s building a device to listen for signals from his friends. I was going to ask him to listen for my people too, I can ask about Tony as well. If we have their locations, I can create a Bifrost bridge and bring them here.”

“On behalf of the US military, I declare that the plan,” says Rhodes.

Somehow Steve isn’t particularly reassured.

A grunting sound comes from overhead. Steve looks up to see something grey and furry squeeze through a vent. It drops to the floor.

“Rat!” Bruce yelps.

“Rabbit!” Thor cheers.

“There you are, Asgardian! I’ve been lookin’ everywhere for you.”

“Everyone, this is Rabbit. Rabbit, this is Steve and Bruce and…”

“Yeah, I don’t care.” The creature waves away the introductions. “Do you got Stormbringer wit' you?”

“Is that a talking raccoon?” asks Clint.

“It’s either a talking raccoon,” answers M’Baku, “or someone slipped the fun mushrooms into my breakfast salad.”

“Have you finished the tracing device already?” Thor asks.

“What? Oh, no not yet. C’mon do you have the ax or what?” The raccoon is clutching a small clay pot filled with soil.

“Of course.” Thor takes the massive ax from his back and holds it toward the raccoon.

“Aha!” The raccoon snaps a twig off the ax’s twisted-vine handle and shoves it deep into the pot. “Just need some hydration. There!” He scampers over to Steve and snatches the water glass from his hand. He dumps it over the twig and cradles the little pot to his chest. “Take your time, pal,” he whispers.

“I’m confused,” says Clint. “Is the raccoon from Brooklyn?”

“I ain’t no raccoon,” says the raccoon. “What’s a Brooklyn?”

Steve’s friends turn to him as one.

“Well, Brooklyn is…” Steve starts but he can’t concentrate on what Brooklyn is. Not when something is wrong with the room. It’s swaying. No, it's spinning. Steve crashes to the floor.

“Ahahaha! Look at this loser!”

“Rabbit!” Thor scolds.

Natasha kneels over Steve and feels his forehead. “He’s got a fever.”

“He can get sick?” Rhodes asks.

“Not as far as I know.” Bruce is at his other side. “Follow my finger,” he says.

“Which one?”

“Steve, what day is it?” Bruce asks.

Steve knows this one. It’s the day after Thanos.

“What did he say?” someone, maybe Clint, asks.

“I couldn’t hear,” Thor, he thinks it’s Thor, says.

“Who won the ’37 World Series?” He can’t tell who’s talking anymore and doesn’t know the answer.

“This is bad. We need to get him to a doctor.”

Bruce wedges his arm under Steve’s back and tries to lift him. “Thor? Little help?”

* * *

Steve is aware of being put on a stretcher. Of being taken to what he assumes is a hospital. He hears someone say, “I’m too busy for another broken white boy! I’m sorry.” And someone else responds, “These are the best doctors in the world. He’s in good hands.” A needle pierces his arm and he drifts away.

When he wakes it’s dark. He’s in a hospital bed but he’s also tucked in his little nook next to the radiator, wheezing and fighting for every breath. His mother pushes aside the sheet strung next to his cot and picks him up. She rushes him to the stove and makes him inhale steam and pounds him on the back until he can breathe again. “There you go, Stevie. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

The next time he wakes, it’s day. There are tubes in his nose and sticking from his arms. A heart monitor beeps next to his bed. For all their advancements, Wakandan hospital rooms look more or less like a hospital room. Except for a clear glass wall separating him from the other side of the room. Bruce sits behind it at a table, eating breakfast.

“Bruce?”

Bruce startles and stands.

“Oh. You’re awake.” His voice comes through a speaker. “Hey, buddy. How do you feel?”

“Not great. What’s wrong with me?”

“Uh….”

“That bad?”

“Yeah. I’m afraid so. It started with an infection. From the cut on your lip.” Steve vaguely remembers it splitting during the fight. He hadn’t thought much about it. He always healed up quick. “Do you know you’re allergic to most antiseptics?”

“Used to be, yeah. And bees and dust and shellfish.”

“Took a little while but the doctors got the infection under control. But your immune system is a mess. Actually, you don’t have one, in the traditional sense. The super soldier serum took its place. The serum produces its own unique antibodies that can fight off everything: bacteria, viruses, cancer. You name it. Steve, you’re absolutely beautiful on a cellular level. But the antibodies have stopped doing their job. We don’t know why. Which I really don’t like. So, we need you to stay in isolation.”

“For how long?”

“Until we can make the serum work again. Or…”

Or until I die, Steve fills in. To his surprise, the idea doesn’t bother him too much. He’d been living on borrowed time for as long as he can remember. He’d rather not be alone, but dying doesn’t scare him.

“You won’t be alone, Steve,” Bruce says. “One of us will always be right here.” His fingers drum on the glass.

Steve is momentarily startled by Bruce pinpointing the one thing that worries Steve about his current situation. The more he thinks about it the more it makes perfect sense; Bruce understands anxiety. Steve goes back to sleep.

He’s woken by a doctor in a sterile suit changing his IV and checking his vitals. It’s Natasha now at the window. He’s given a bowl of broth and a chunk of soft bread. He can’t keep it down. He vomits up much more than he ate, possibly everything he’s eaten since the Thirties. Nat is unfazed, but he’s rethinking his stance on being alone. He would’ve preferred not to have a witness in this case.

Once he’s finished and mopped up, Natasha gives him an update on their progress. Thor’s friend, whose name is apparently Rocket not Rabbit, is nearly finished with his device. Though the work was briefly delayed when it was discovered that the little clay pot he’s been toting around is a priceless heirloom taken from Queen Ramonda’s private rooms. They managed to get him released after a short 3-hour incarceration. Steve can tell Nat is worried their motley crew is wearing on the Wakandans’ hospitality. Which is mainly a problem because Steve can’t be moved.

That night while Clint watches from the glassed-in nook, Steve travels back in time. He’s still in a hospital in a high-tech African Utopia, but he’s also on a makeshift army base where Peggy Carter is hitting tennis balls at him. The racket and balls are Howard’s, which he packed just in case a game of tennis broke out during their mission to the front.

Her first three serves go straight down the middle. Steve blocks them easily with the shield. The fourth curves down and bounces off his knee. “Ahh” He bites his lip trying not to show how much it hurt. A complete failure since he’s also hopping up and down and clutching his leg.

“Oh, Steve! I’m sorry. Maybe we should call it a day.”

“No. I’m okay. I need to practice with this thing or it’s just another stage prop. And so am I. Do it again.” Steve gets the shield into position. Peggy sets up the serve. Steve brings the shield around but the ball clips his left shoulder. “I’m the problem, not the shield. This body is just so _big_. I don’t know what to do with it.”

“I’m happy to help in any way I can,” Peggy says, her lips curling into a wry smile.

Steve looks down. He feels heat rising to his ears, but he smiles too. Just a little pleased.

Steve chuckles to himself and comes back to the present. He looks up. Clint is talking on the other side of the glass but Steve can’t hear what he’s saying. He must have forgotten to turn on the mike. Steve almost tells him, but he can tell Clint is attempting a “Don’t go losing hope” speech. Steve has heard them all.

“Uh huh, sure.” He nods. Judging by the hand gestures, Clint is in the middle of an extended archery metaphor.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Somehow, Steve had forgotten how boring it is to be bedridden. He asked for Bucky’s books but was told they couldn’t be decontaminated. They gave him an e-reader instead but the light hurt his eyes. He turns on the satellite TV. He isn’t normally one for television. He settles on the news. He expects to see a world in chaos because of Thanos. Instead, the world has reacted with, not exactly peace, but calm. Every corner of the globe was affected, nearly every person on Earth lost someone. He sees some anger, some violence, but mostly outpourings of grief and people reaching out. People flocking to help in areas that were hit the worst, where the sudden disappearances caused accidents or disrupted the infrastructure. People taking in children who lost their parents and the elderly who lost their caretakers.

“Thanks, Tim. And now it’s time for us to again to pay respects to a remarkable person lost to the Thanos disaster. We hope to have a new tribute at the top of each hour so please stay tuned. The world lost many incredible people from all walks of life and the Avengers are no exception. While we have not received official confirmation from his former teammates, Captain America has not been seen in public since what is now being called the Snap Heard Round the World.”

“Oh for crying out loud.” Steve groans. If he still had the shield he’d hurl it at the screen. Plenty of good people were well and truly gone and they were wasting their breath on him. The eulogies can wait until he's actually dead. He scowls at the screen while a deep-voiced reporter narrates over pictures of his time in the service. A single grainy image of him pre-serum, dozens from his time in the USO, and a few of the Howling Commandos. As the narrator describes his “fateful” crash into the ice, black and white footage plays of a plane plummeting to the sea. It’s a scene from a cheesy biopic made in the Fifties, starring Tab Hunter. Sam insisted on watching it every Fourth of July. He seemed to genuinely like the movie but he got the most enjoyment from watching Steve groan over all the inaccuracies. Steve’s next birthday is going to feel incomplete without Sam repeating Tab-Cap’s most cringe-inducing line every five seconds. “A fella’s gotta defend his girl. And America, she’s my best girl.”

The TV plays footage of the battle of New York and those terrible educational videos he was roped into doing. In retrospect, Steve should have figured out that HYDRA had taken over SHIELD much sooner.

“Although Captain America became a controversial figure in recent years, for his refusal to comply with the Sokovia Accords, he was issued a full pardon due to his heroism in the battle of Wakanda. Captain Steven Rogers will be remembered for his courage, leadership, and ability to inspire everyone he came into contact with.” They show pictures of Peggy, Bucky, Tony, and Sam.

They’ve got it all wrong. _They_ had inspired him. Peggy and Sam who risked their lives every day, with nothing but their skill and guts to back them up. Tony who hadn’t needed genetic modifications to become a hero, just his brain. And Bucky who had everything taken from him and still got back up and fought the monsters.

“Thank you for that moving tribute, Glenn. And now a little good news for you Captain America fans during this awful time. The long-delayed _First Avenger_ movie has finally been officially green-lit. Chris Pine has signed on to star as Captain Rogers. What do you think about that, Donna?”

“Ooh, I like him!”

Steve switches off the TV in disgust.

“You alright there, Captain?” Thor asks through the speaker. “That language was a little colorful coming from you.”

“I’m… I’m missing my block of ice. Is that odd?”

“Ice can be pleasant. A bit cold.”

“I guess. I’m sick of this bed.”

“You’re bored? Do you want to hear a story?”

“Um, okay?”

Steve doesn’t remember thinking Thor was particularly funny before. Maybe because when everyone is together they’re all extras in the Tony show. The story Thor tells shouldn’t be funny. There’s death, destruction, imprisonment, and being forced to fight as entertainment, but he tells it as a lighthearted romp. By the time he gets to Bruce jumping from an orgy ship and face-planting onto the Rainbow Bridge, Steve’s chest is on fire from laughter.

Eventually, Thor transitions into telling tales of the more distant past. Stories about his ancestors, his father, and friends whose names Steve can’t fathom trying to pronounce. Most of the stories circle back to his brother. Steve thinks he understands their relationship a little better now. In some of the stories, they’re rivals for the throne and their father’s approval. In far more, they’re a team, co-conspirators who got each other out of as much trouble as they got into. Though the stories do contain more stabbings than Steve would consider brotherly.

“You see, it was our father’s favorite horse. But Thrim refused to give it back unless Freya agreed to marry him. Which she rather obstinately refused to do because she,” He makes air-quotes, “‘wants nothing to do with your hijinks.’ So Loki came up with a plan where I would go to Thrim disguised as Freya. Loki went along as my handmaiden. She said she’d—"

“Hang on a second. She?”

“Oh yes. Usually, Loki was my brother, but sometimes she was my sister. Anyway, she said she’d glamoured me to look like Freya but I think she just put me in a dress and a veil. Either way, Thrim didn’t notice. We got Father’s horse back then escaped but I may still be married. Loki said it wasn’t legally binding since I didn’t use my real name. And that was the first time we did Get Help. Now the second time...”

Steve comes to realize, even if Thor isn’t entirely aware of it, that he’s witnessing an Asgardian wake. He’s relieved that it’s not yet his own.

* * *

Later, Steve wakes to find himself in a dimly lit bunker watching Howard Stark fiddle with a radio. He can still feel the fine Wakandan linen against his skin and hear the beeping of the heart monitor, but he sees the commandos as clearly as he sees Thor holding vigil at the window.

“Come on Stark, aren’t you some kind of modern-day Edison?”

“Hold your horses, Dugan. Almost….” The radio crackles to life and big band music fills the room. “Yes! And you doubted me. Pegs, care to cut a rug?” He sweeps Peggy into a twirl. She glances at Steve for a second, then she and Howard are gliding around the bunker with practiced ease.

“Not bad, Howard.” Peggy smiles.

“What can I say? Good looks, brains, money, and the grace of Fred Astaire. I’m the complete package. Not to brag.”

Steve never learned to dance. Still, he’d promised himself he’d dance with Peggy someday. He planned to do it when they weren’t on active duty, when he could take her somewhere special, when he’d managed to learn a few steps, but if war had taught him anything it’s that things rarely go to plan. He stands to cut in, but Morita beats him to it. He sits back down.

He would’ve embarrassed himself. He’d been so bad in the first rehearsal of “the Star-Spangled Man with a Plan” they’d revised it so all he had to do was stand and talk. He feels a firm hand on his shoulder.

“Come with me. I’ll show you,” Bucky whispers. Steve doesn’t hesitate. When they were kids Bucky was always there to teach him something. He never approved of Steve getting into fights, but since he couldn’t stop him, Bucky taught him to protect his face and where to aim to do the most damage. He taught Steve which neighborhood mothers would save you a slice of bread or a bagel in exchange for doing odd jobs. He tried to teach Steve how to sweet-talk them into adding a little butter or jam to the slice but that was a skill Steve couldn’t master. As they got older, Bucky taught Steve to shave. He taught him not to mix beer and liquor. He was the one to show Steve his first girlie magazine and explain just what men and women did together.

Bucky leads Steve outside, leaving the door slightly ajar so they can still hear the music. The swing number ends and switches to a woman singing in French. Her voice is mournful and joyous at the same time.

“You start like this.” Bucky demonstrates, standing with his arms extended. “No, loosen up a little Steve, this isn’t combat. If you’re doing it right, you won’t need to deck the girl.”

Steve shifts his shoulders, trying to relax.

“Put your hand here.” Bucky loops Steve’s right arm under his left and positions it on the small of his back. “And then she puts her hand here.” He places his hand on Steve's shoulder. “And you take her other hand, like so.”

“Okay. Now what?” Steve asks.

“You go forward, she goes back.” They each take a step forward, bumbling into each other. “Sorry, I’m used to leading. Let’s try that again.” This time Steve starts on the wrong foot.

“Buck, you should lead.”

“No, you’ve got to learn the proper way. What’s the girl gonna think if you let her lead?”

“Peggy? I don’t think she’d have a problem with that.”

Bucky thinks for a second. “Good point. I’ll lead.” They rearrange their arms. “Right, on three you step back with your left foot.” He counts, they move in unison. They complete a single box-step. “Better. Now do it without watching your feet.”

“How am I supposed to know where to go?”

“Watch your partner. Look at me.” He counts again and nods to Steve’s left. “Now, feel what I’m doing with my hand?” Steve notices a gentle pressure on his back just before they turn. “See? It’s not that hard, just follow my lead.”

“Always do,” Steve murmurs.

Bucky lets go and steps back. “Holy shit. You actually believe that.” He laughs and shakes his head.

“Name one time I didn’t listen to you.”

“Oh, I don’t know, how about when you joined the army? Or when you let a bunch of nut-job scientists tear you to pieces and reassemble you as Johnny Weissmuller?”

“Hey, you never told me not to do that because I made sure you didn’t know it was happening.”

“Not helping your case, Stevie.” Bucky lands a playful punch on Steve’s shoulder.

“Hey!” Steve laughs and jabs back.

“Aw, son of a bitch!” Bucky staggers back, clasping his shoulder.

“Oh God, I’m sorry!” He didn’t think he’d hit him that hard.

“It’s not you, I’m still a little sore from… you know.”

“Jeez, Buck, how are you even standing after what Zola did to you?”

“This friend of mine taught me that when you get knocked down, you get back up. Besides, it’s been almost a week. Now come on, you aren’t getting out of the lesson that easy.” He holds out his arms again. Steve steps into them. “Alright, now that you’ve got the basics, you can try something more advanced.”

“Like a dip?”

“Like you pull her in closer and move your hand down a little.”

“Oh. But if she’s leading, then…”

“Right, then it’s her move.” Bucky’s hand slides down to Steve’s waist.

“So, what do I do?”

“Depending on how the date was going, this is when I either got slapped or she put her head on my shoulder.”

“Like this?” Steve rests his cheek on Bucky’s shoulder, careful to avoid the tender spot

“None of my dates had to stoop quite so much, but that’s the gist. Good thing Peggy wears heals, I guess.”

They sway in silence for a few seconds. Steve starts to ask what to do next when the music is drowned out by the unmistakable sound of a diving plane. Steve shoves Bucky to the ground, yelling for the others to take cover.

Alarms blare.

Steve is being held down by a doctor in a sterile suit. He’s shaking and thrashing in the bed. Thor is shouting at the window. He is so very tired. He goes slack, his consciousness drifting away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next update will be a few weeks in coming, as I'm waiting on feedback from beta readers. After that I'm hoping to post weekly until the end.


	3. Chapter 3

It feels like he was hit by a truck. No, he’s been hit by a truck. This is worse. Steve groans, trying to sit up in the bed.

“There’s a button, I think,” a vaguely familiar voice says over the speaker.

“Got it.” The bed eases him up. “Pepper?”

Pepper Potts waves a red and gold gauntleted hand at him. “You had a seizure. It didn’t look too good for a while but you’re stable now. The others stayed as long as they could, but there’s something going on in Pittsburgh. They asked me to stay with you, but I can go if you want to be alone.”

“No, that’s okay. It’s good to see you.” Steve can’t remember if he’s ever spoken to Pepper without Tony being present. Probably the only member of the extended Avengers family that he’d spent less time with is Jane Foster. Or maybe Clint’s toddler. “So, how’s um… business?”

“A little unstable at the moment. What with the CEO being lost in space.”

“Have they heard anything?”

“They’ve picked up a transmission. Maybe a location. Thor is doing that rainbow portal thing that I guess he can do now. Tony might be back by tonight.”

“That’s good. I’m glad. Is he okay?”

She shrugs and laughs. “No idea. Probably not okay by most people’s definition, but when is he ever?” She sounds tired.

“Are you wearing his armor?”

“One of them. When Rhodey called, I felt I needed to get here as quickly as possible. So, I broke the sound barrier, just to sit here and wait. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention it to Tony. I’d never live it down.”

“If that’s what you want.” Tony was always bragging about how pulled together and unflappable Pepper is. He sees now that it’s only in comparison to Tony.

“He won’t say it when he gets back, but you should know that Tony regrets what happened between you. How out of hand it all got.”

“We were both angry. I kept things from him that I shouldn’t have.”

“That’s true, but he forgave you a long time ago. I haven’t.”

“Hm?”

“You are a super soldier, Steve. You’re _the_ super soldier. Tony is a middle-aged man with a heart condition. You and your wanted-assassin of a bestie beat him to a pulp.”

“He was wearing armor.”

“Which you tore through like wrapping paper.”

“He was shooting at us! We’re veterans, it was reflex.” Steve looks down to see his fists clenched.

“He was your friend and you left him on the ground to die!” She yells.

They both stare at each other. Steve falls back on the bed. He didn’t think he could feel worse than he had ten minutes ago. The fight with Tony shook Steve. Even as angry as they both were the brutality came as a shock. He understood why Tony had gone berserk. Steve was protecting his parents’ murderer. At first, Steve was only trying to stop Tony from getting to Bucky. To get him to stand down. Steve had held back, doing his best to avoid real damage if he could. Then Tony had blown off Bucky’s prosthetic arm and Bucky passed out from the pain. HYDRA deliberately raised Bucky’s pain tolerance to withstand things Steve himself couldn’t handle. And Bucky. Passed. Out. Steve snapped.

“Heart condition?” he asks. “I thought…”

“Yes, they removed the shrapnel, but it left scars. On his heart. Which you nearly put your shield through.”

Tony had stopped being Tony to him. Just a thing that hurt his friend. Steve could’ve killed him. He’d wanted to. It’d taken all his restraint to stop himself. Until this moment, he had no idea how close he nearly came. One more blow…

“I didn’t know,” Steve whispers.

“You didn’t ask.” Pepper takes a deep breath, hunching up her shoulders. “I’m not proud of myself right now. I don’t think of myself as someone who’d scream at a man on his deathbed.”

“Tony says differently.”

“Oh right, I did it to him too. Maybe I am that sort of person. Still, I was upset. The last few days have been rough. My fiancé disappeared into a portal. I didn’t know if he died in the snap. Then it turns out he’s alive just stranded a hundred million lightyears away. I was in a board meeting and half of the members disintegrated right before my eyes. I’ve been calling the families of my employees day and night. I haven’t slept.” She takes another deep breath.

“I’m sorry. I really am. Not for what I said, I meant every word, but for saying it now. When you’re in this condition.” Pepper wipes her eyes and smiles a strained smile. “You do look just awful, Steve.”

“Thank you.” Steve smiles back.

“Like really terrible.” She breaks into a fit of inappropriate giggles. “The beard alone is a disaster.”

“You and Tony are much more alike than I ever guessed.” Steve laughs.

“What a horrible thing to say.”

* * *

 

Bruce tags out Pepper an hour or so later. He slumps into a chair.

“You okay there, Bruce?”

“Uh... It’s kind of hitting me, the last 72ish hours.” Bruce flicks his hands as if scattering a swarm of invisible bees. “More like the last two years, if I’m being honest. I’ve seen some weird shit. We just saved Pittsburgh from this giant floating head thing. With these tiny little arms. It was tougher than it sounds.”

“I’m sorry I missed it. Any luck with the reluctant dragon?”

“Still on strike. I had to wear the Hulkbuster armor again. Come to think of it, that probably isn’t helping to appease him. How were things here?”

“Uneventful by comparison. Pepper yelled at me.”

“You too? She blames me for Tony going to space. Which is kind of true. She’s intense.”

“She’s good people.” Steve says. “Hey, whatever happened to Jane Foster?”

Bruce draws a finger across his throat.

“She died?”

“What? No. Well maybe, I’m not sure, lots of people died recently, but that’s not what I meant. All I know is they broke up. Thor doesn’t like to talk about it. So, how are you, Steve?”

“About the same. You’ve seen the charts. You tell me.”

“Yeah no, that’s not what I meant. You’ve been stuck in this room for a while now, and I don’t see that changing soon. I know what that can do to someone. To be trapped, to feel powerless and weak. Especially for someone like you, who always needs to be doing something. A mission, something to fight.”

“Bruce, it’s okay, I’m not depressed. I don’t need a pep-talk.”

“Yeah, that’s not what this is either.” Bruce stares down at his hands. Steve wonders how long he’s been awake. “I don’t know how to say this except to say it. You’re dying, Steve. You’re getting worse much faster than we predicted. The seizure was bad, we almost lost you. I don’t know what’s causing this, and until I figure it out, I can’t stop it. I can’t save your life. I can only prevent your death.”

“How long do I have?”

“I don’t know.” Bruce shakes his head, pulling his arms around himself. “The Wakandan doctors are very good. If this happened anywhere else, I don’t think you’d still be here. It’s still possible we’ll find a cure. But the longer we keep you alive in a dying body, the more you live through things that should kill you…”

“You’re asking if I want to die fast or slow.”

Bruce cranes his head back and stares at the ceiling. “You’re my patient, and you’re my friend. I don’t want to draw out your pain. Let you suffer because _I’m_ afraid to lose my friend. If we do this, keep you alive until we can’t anymore, on the increasingly slim chance that there’s a cure, it has to be your choice.”

“Bruce, I… that’s a lot.” Steve’s head is spinning.

“You don’t need to have an answer right now.”

“I think I need some time to myself.”

“Of course.” The window goes opaque.

Steve leans back in the bed, letting Bruce’s words sink in. After the initial shock of his illness had passed, Steve had fallen into his old patterns. He refused to give any more attention to his many afflictions than was absolutely necessary. Now, all the pain he’d suppressed since falling sick is waking up. He feels the truth of Bruce’s diagnosis in his burning joints. In the way, his voice has gone horse and shallow. He feels it in the way everything, even rest, makes him tired. He is going to die. It’s just a matter of when.

He isn’t afraid of death, but he’s not sure he’s ready for it either. He’s outlived so many of the people who matter most to him. Bucky was the last person who knew him before he was a symbol. Steve is a century old but the majority of that time was spent asleep. There’s so much he didn’t get to do. So much he’ll never do. Never got to dance with Peggy. Never started a family. Never got to be anything but a soldier. Never said…

He goes around and around in his head for hours. He keeps coming back to a story his grandfather told him when he was a small boy. A fisherman was sailing through a storm when Death came for him. The fisherman was planning to propose to his sweetheart once he was back on dry land. He wrestled with Death, refusing to let it take him. He couldn’t let go of Death so he couldn’t steer back to shore. The fisherman wouldn’t yield and neither would Death. He never made it back.

Steve presses the button to clear the window and sees the remaining Avengers yelling at Bruce. All except Thor who must still be trying to locate Tony. He turns on his microphone and clears his throat.

“Excuse me?”

They fall silent and turn to him.

“Yeah, buddy?” Bruce turns on their mike.

“I’ve made a decision. I don’t want to die.” There is a collective exhale from the other side of the glass. “But I’m done fighting it. If you find a cure, I’ll take it. But if my time comes and you don’t have one, let me go. No more extraordinary measures.”

“Are you sure about that?” Natasha asks, her expression grim.

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to disappoint you. Any of you.”

“It’s about what you want, Steve. You don’t owe us anything,” Bruce says.

“Then I’m sure.”

“Can we do anything for you?” Clint asks.

“You can make Thanos pay. That’s all I want.”

The doctors come in in a little while later. They remove most of the equipment. All that remains are the saline drip, the nose tube, and the heart monitor. Steve asks and they give him a sedative so he can sleep. He dreams. It’s a normal dream, not as distinct as the recent ones, not a memory. He’s small. He’s running. He doesn’t know if he’s running to or from.

* * *

 

Tony is at the window when he wakes. He looks like he’s just returned from Hell. He’s covered in fresh scratches and bruises. His torso is bound by a stiff bandage. His eyes are rimmed with thick, dark circles.

“Rogers.”

“Stark.” Steve waits for the anger to return, but all he feels is guilt and relief. It’s surprisingly good to see him.

“Let me get this out of the way. The accords. I wasn’t wrong. You weren’t either. You were probably less wrong.”

“Was that an apology?” Steve grins. “Did Tony Stark apologize to me?”

“Only a little. Don’t tell Pepper.”

Steve laughs then sighs. “I should have told you how your parents died. That it was Bucky. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, you should have.” Resentment flashes on Tony’s face, but it’s replaced by resignation. “But Barnes is gone and you’re...”

“Going.” Steve agrees.

“I hear you took on Thanos with your bare hands.”

“Tried. It didn’t work out. I hear you went to space.” That’s another thing Steve won’t get to do. He’s wondered more than once if things had gone differently, if he’d survived the war, would he have made it into the Apollo missions?

“Yep. There and back again. With an actual wizard. He was kind of a dick.”

“Was?”

“Dust on the wind. Exchanged an Infinity Stone for my life. Which is a bit of a mindfuck. Excuse me, Cap, a mindfornication.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Tony, you know damn well that I curse.” When the occasion calls for it.

“Wow, the _mouth_ on you.” Tony chuckles then continues. “There were others on Titan when it happened. They all died. Except for Nebula. But all the rest, Antler Girl and Wrestlemania, even the dumbass from Missouri.” Steve can see Tony is hesitating. There’s something he doesn’t want to say. “And the kid too.”

“The kid?”

“Peter, Spider-man, you met him in Germany.”

“The kid from Queens? You took a kid to space?”

“I didn’t take him! He stowed away! That’s how stupid this kid was. And now I’ve got to tell his aunt. I don’t know how I’m going to do that.” Tony’s voice breaks. “The others, they just ...” Tony flicks his hand and blows out a puff of air. “But the kid somehow knows what’s happening and he begs me to help him. And I can’t. Then _he says he’s sorry_.” Tony’s breath is ragged. “And then he’s gone.”

Steve inhales, hearing Bucky’s final confused “Steve?” He’s struck again by the sheer wrongness of watching a living, breathing, person crumble into nothing. At least it was quick. Over before either understood how over it was. He can’t imagine what that must have been like for Tony

“And now you’re fading too…” Fading. That’s a good word for this.

“Tony,” Steve whispers. He can’t stand the broken look in his eyes. “Tony.”

Tony looks up, tears shining on his cheeks. “Yeah, Cap?”

“You’re so fragile without your suit.”

Tony barks a laugh, still crying. “You’re a mean son of a bitch, Rogers! I’m going to make sure the world knows that about you. I’m going to pay for a tomb and over the door, it’s going to read ‘Here lies Steven Rogers, a Star-Spangled Pain in my Ass.”

“I’d like that.” An honest legacy.

“Do you really have to die, Cap?”

“Doesn’t everyone?”

“I don’t plan to.”

“If anyone can figure it out it’ll be you. Just make sure you bring the boat in first.” Steve’s eyes have grown heavy, he’s half asleep.

Tony stares at him through the glass with an expression of puzzled amusement. “What kind of drugs do they have you on? And how do I get some?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! And Steve is still dying! Updates will be more regular as I've got feedback through the last chapter.


	4. Chapter 4

Steve has been getting steadily worse over the last few hours. It’s as if his body was only holding on until he said goodbye to Tony to start the final decline.

More and more, he’s slipping into memories. Some quiet and calm. Playing cards late into the night with Sam and Natasha. Hiding under a blanket, filling the pages of his sketchbook. Some are less comforting. Ultron clones, coming at him in endless waves. Clinging to the side of a train, hating himself.

A sharp pain in his head jolts him back. He’s still in Wakanda, still in his hospital bed, but he’s also somewhere else. Somewhere he doesn’t recognize. A rocky, barren plain, where everything is hazy and orange. Everything except the woman walking toward him. She has green skin and black hair that fades to scarlet.

Steve is confused. This vision is as vivid as the others, but those had been familiar. His past returning to him in crystal clear detail. The woman leans over him, squinting. She has sharp cheekbones and ridged eyebrows. For all her strangeness, she’s beautiful.

“I’m sorry, ma'am,” Steve says, “I don’t remember you. Should I?” Her mouth squeezes into a frown. She grabs his wrist. His skin freezes at her touch.

“Um, Clint?” Steve calls. The archer is slumped next to the window, asleep. The woman lets go of him, shaking her head. Steve makes sure his mike is on and tries again. “Clint? Something kind of strange is happening.”

Clint doesn’t stir. He must have taken out his hearing aids.

“You shouldn’t be here,” the woman says.

“Uh, what?”

“This place is for the dead and you’re not dead.”

“Not yet, but give me a minute.” Steve wheezes, which turns into a coughing fit.

“You do look like you’ll be joining us soon, but the only way to get here without dying is through the Soul Stone. I know you don’t have it.”

“I never claimed I did. Did I hear you right? Am I in the afterlife? Or um… the underworld?” He never nailed down what he believed happened after you died. He knew what the church taught but he’d seen a lot of death during the war and had come to the conclusion that death was death and there probably wasn’t anything beyond it. Even if there was, he never imagined orange landscapes or green women.

“Soul World is what we’re calling it. And you’re only partially here. Just like my father was. You’re giving off strange energies like you’ve been using the stones. Did you take the gauntlet? Where is it?”

“The gauntlet? Thanos’s gauntlet? No, I tried. I failed. Half the universe died.” Steve knows, logically, that he isn’t responsible for the deaths, but he carries their weight just the same.

“You fought my father?”

“Thanos is your father?” Steve can’t picture Thanos with a family.

“Adopted. He killed me to get the Soul Stone.”

“I’m sorry, that’s awful.”

She laughs bitterly. “It’s not even the worst thing he did to me. I still don’t understand why you’re here.”

“You can see through the Soul Stone, Gamora.” A distant voice says. Steve tenses. He knows that voice, but he can’t place it. “Look for him,” it says.

The woman—Gamora?— nods. She closes her eyes and when they open a golden light glows from them. His own face appears before him. He’s screaming in fury, his hands wrapped around an enormous golden glove. Steve barely remembers this, he acted without thinking, almost blind with rage. Thanos’s other hand crashes into him.

“Did you see it?” the voice asks.

“What?” asks Gamora.

“Look again,” it says. The voice has some kind of accent. The heart monitor spikes along with Steve’s pulse.

The image of Steve’s face returns, twice as big. He’s screaming, pulling at the gauntlet with every ounce of strength he possesses. He once held on to a rising helicopter, stopping it from flying away but the gauntlet doesn’t give.

Until it does.

Just before Thanos punches Steve out of view, a hairline crack opens in the glove. It’s only visible when magnified to this impossible size. A nearly imperceptible stream of vapor wafts from the fractured metal.

“You broke it,” Gamora whispers.

“Maybe, but it didn’t do any good.”

“Good is an inane word, Mister Rogers.”

Steve stiffens. That voice. _It can’t be_.

“You bandy it about so much it loses all meaning. You broke the gauntlet and they seeped into your blood. Infected you.” The Red Skull steps into view. “Hello, Captain.”

“No!” Steve gulps, his arms snap into a defensive position. His heart races. The room disappears.

Steve stumbles into a wall and slides to the floor. He’s in a hallway. He doesn’t remember getting out of the bed. He knows he didn’t detach the IV or the heart monitor but they’re gone. He pulls himself to his feet. This looks like the Wakandan royal palace. How did he get here?

He hears voices further down the hall, getting closer.

“What about Drax?”

“Yes, him too,” a deep female voice answers.

“Even Mantis?”

“I told you, all of them were taken.”

“That purple fucker is dead! I’m going to rip out parts he didn’t even know he had!”

“You’ll have to get in line.”

A tall bald woman with blue skin rounds the corner, followed by Thor’s fuzzy little friend.

“Excuse me,” Steve says, his voice barely a whisper. “I think I need help.”

Heavy footsteps approach from the opposite direction.

“Nebula, you gotta see this. It’s hilarious!”

Steve’s legs give out, he falls. His face smacks into something hard and craggy.

“Hello, my name is Korg. You don’t look so good, friend.”

Steve blacks out.

* * *

“—but how did he—”

“—just a power nap. I’m sor—”

“—oh my god—”

Steve has no idea what’s going on around him. He’s going in and out, catching snippets of conversations. Little puzzle pieces that he can’t hold onto long enough to fit together.

“—Tony, don’t—”

He comes screaming back to consciousness. He’s fully awake but no less confused. It’s chaos. Shattered equipment and overturned furniture cover the floor. Tony is in full armor and backed into a corner. The Hulk looms over him, panting and snarling.

“I’m sorry, big fella, I had to. We were so close,” Tony pleads, his hands raised in front of him.

Hulk roars and knocks over a table sending pieces of machinery in Steve’s direction. Thor deflects it, causing another avalanche of destruction.

Hulk picks Tony up by the neck and prepares to slam him through a wall.

“Bruce! He’s got a heart condition!” Steve shouts.

Hulk lets go and Tony drops to the floor like a brick. Hulk stumbles backward, shrinking into Banner between steps.

“What is happening?” Steve is suddenly aware of an intense pain in his chest. He winces and tries to fall back, only to find he’s strapped into a sort of vertical bed.

“Right, yes, you deserve an explanation.” A young woman appears in front of him. “But you’ve only just been revived from cardiac arrest and you are still quite vulnerable to infection. Also, your friends need to calm down and clean up the mess they’ve made. So, I’m going to leave you in this box for a bit. Sorry!”

A glass lid closes over Steve before he can protest. He can’t keep his eyes open. He loses his hold on the moment and floats away.

The glass hisses open some indeterminate amount of time later. Steve is not sure where he is. It’s a brightly lit space full of intricate machinery Steve couldn’t possibly identify. The walls are in covered vibrant tile mosaics.

“There, now. That’s better.” A young woman, he thinks it’s the same one from earlier, stands before him.

“Oh no, is this the future again?” he mumbles.

“Yes, I suppose, but only by four hours. It’s perfectly normal to be disoriented when coming out of stasis. Are you hungry?”

“YES!”

“No need to shout.” The girl giggles.

“I DIDN’T KNOw I was shouting. Sorry.”

“Hunger is also normal. Here.” She unstraps his right arm and hands him a green drink. “This should help.”

Steve takes a sip through the straw, it’s cold and sweet and possibly the greatest thing he’s ever tasted. “What is that?” He asks once the last drop is gone.

“A smoothie. You aren’t ready for solid food. Now then, do you know who you are?”

It takes a minute for his memories to slide into place.

“My name is Steven Grant Rogers. And you’re Princess Shuri of Wakanda and this is your laboratory and this is a…stasis chamber?”

Shuri smiles, marking something on a clipboard. “Good, you’ve shaken off the stasis fog faster than most. Yes, this is a stasis chamber. The same one your friend Sargent Barnes used when he was in my care. I thought the familiarity would be good for you. I was sorry to hear he was gone. I liked him.”

“I liked your brother. I’m so sorry,” Steve says.

Shuri smiles sadly. “So am I. I’m also sorry that I didn’t look into your illness sooner. I’ve been distracted. Shut myself in the lab for days. I believed I could come up with a solution to the crisis on my own. I was wrong. I must confess I hadn’t spared you a thought until you were brought to me.”

“How did I get here?”

“A guest who recently arrived from space found you in a palace hall. You collapsed on him. Which is a bit odd since you were only minutes earlier confined to a hospital room half a mile away. Your friends were very concerned. Naturally, we consulted the footage from your room.”

“Footage? You were recording me?”

“You are a foreigner, created to be a weapon of war, by a country rather fond of wars. Of course, we recorded you. What we saw was unusual. Here, see for yourself.”

Shuri adjusts her beaded bracelets. A small 3D projection plays. Steve sees himself in the hospital bed. He’s talking to someone but there’s no one else there.

“Maybe, but it didn’t do any good,” he says. Then after a pause, he starts back, puts up his fists and shouts “No!” Then in the blink of an eye, he disappears.

“You teleported.”

“Teleported?”

“Moved from one location to another without covering the distance. Your friends say you couldn’t do that before. You were in bad shape by the time you got to me. Delirious, when you were conscious at all. You kept muttering that ‘they’ were in your blood. I took a sample and ran some tests. The same ones the doctors had done and some more extensive ones. And well, we found something. Mr. Stark, Dr. Banner, and I think we figured out what is making you sick. We came up with a treatment plan.”

“Is that why I feel better? Did you cure me?”

“No. That’s a temporary byproduct of stasis. You were too weak to withstand the treatments. It was my idea to put you in the chamber as a short-term solution. To strengthen you up so we can begin treating you. However, just as we were prepping you to go in, you had another seizure. Your heart stopped.”

“I was dead?”

“For two minutes and thirty-seven seconds. Apparently, Mr. Stark has defibrillator pads built into his armors, for just such emergencies. He revived you. Which, as I understand, was not what you wanted. I’ve only known him for a few hours but my impression is that he is a very brilliant man, with extremely poor impulse control.”

“Yeah, that’s him.” Steve chuckles.

“Dr. Banner was upset that he disregarded your wishes. Very upset.”

“I remember that part. But your lab was destroyed. How did you fix everything so quickly?”

“Let’s just say, I work with a lot of volatile substances. All my equipment is modular and responds to impact by breaking into components that I can put back together rather easily. It’s inconvenient but better than having to rebuild from scratch. I made your friends help. Once they’d gotten their tempers under control.”

“You said you know what’s wrong with me?”

“Yes, but I did promise not to tell you without your friends present. I think they want to make their cases. I could tell you anyway if you want.”

“No, that’s okay. I want to see them.”

“Okay. They’re in the holding cells. The Dora Milaje is keeping an eye on them, in case things get heated again. I’ll have Okoye bring them back. In the meantime, can I ask you something? Something personal?”

“Sure, go ahead.”

“Were you and the White Wolf more than friends?”

“I…uh, did he say something?”

“No, we mostly talked about what was done to him. Otherwise, he wasn’t very talkative, not even after he was well enough to live on his own. But the whole time he was here, I only saw him truly smile twice. Once when his favorite doe delivered a kid and again when you arrived in Wakanda. It’s really none of my business but I couldn’t help wondering.”

“Well, it’s complicated. I mean… We were… It was the Thirties and… Yes, we were more than friends. But we weren’t in a romantic relationship.”

“Did you want to be?”

Steve sighs. He doesn’t know how to answer. He’d been in love with Peggy. He honestly doesn’t understand how anyone with an inclination for women could fail to fall in love with Peggy Carter. But back then people were sometimes intimidated by an obviously competent and intelligent woman. They still were, he supposed. She had been the first person to believe him when he said he could be more. She took him at his word that he wasn’t just overcompensating for his size. He had loved her and wanted her and he knew that she wanted him. He was glad, truly, that she lived a long, full, life after he went into the ice. She’d had a brilliant career and a beautiful family with a good man whom she adored. Yet, sometimes the fact that he wasn’t that man, that they’d missed their opportunity, caused him physical pain.

Still, he’d been conflicted about loving Peggy because he loved someone else as well. When he first felt lust for his best friend he was surprised and scared. Scared because he thought something was wrong with him. It wasn’t something people were open about in those days so he thought he wasn’t normal. But he’d never been normal. He could accept it the same way he accepted the asthma and the arrhythmia. He was who he was. And it was more than lust.

His true fear was losing Bucky. That if he told him what he felt Buck would turn away in disgust. Or he wouldn’t but he’d be uncomfortable around Steve from then on. After Steve’s mother died Bucky insisted that Steve move in with him. He wasn’t going to let Steve be alone. Couldn’t help but take care of him. Steve couldn’t imagine his life without Bucky in it.

When he thought Bucky had died in the war, a hole opened in his heart. One so deep that when Steve was going to what he believed to be his own death, he found comfort in thinking they’d be together again. When he learned what really happened, that while he was at rest in the ice, Bucky was enduring seven decades of torture and slavery, Steve put everything he’d built since waking in jeopardy to set him free. The priority had been finding him, keeping him safe, making sure he wasn’t alone. Confessing his feelings was the furthest thing from Steve’s mind. After Bucky was settled in Wakanda and starting to seem more like his old self, Steve didn’t want Bucky to feel he owed him something. Didn’t want him to reciprocate out of gratitude. He never imagined losing him again. Or like _that_.

“I… I did.” Steve nods, his eyes wet.

“I’m sorry for prying.”

“No. It’s good to finally say it out loud.”

“Can I ask you something else?”

“Why not?” He’d already told her more than he’d told his closest friends. Maybe it was so easy to confide in her precisely because she didn’t know him.

“You’re Captain America. Do you really love all of America? All 50 states? Alaska and Hawaii included?” she teases.

“And the territories. Puerto Rico, Guam, American Samoa, the Northern Mariana Islands, and the Virgin Islands.” Which Tony once called him the patron saint of.

“Seriously? It’s a really big country. There must be some parts you aren’t crazy about.” Shuri walks out of view for a second.

“If you promise not to spread it around, then there’s a three-block stretch of Wichita that I’m utterly indifferent to.”

She laughs and returns with a wreath of multicolored flowers. “Here, put this on.”

“Is this part of the treatment?” He places it on his head.

“No, this is for Tumblr.” She snaps a picture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh! Nearly done! One more chapter to go.


	5. Chapter 5

“Your friends are at the door. Should I let them in?” Shuri asks.

“I can’t promise another argument won’t break out. For a bunch of self-proclaimed peacekeepers, we don’t do well with conflict.”

“I’ve taken precautions.”

Bruce and Tony trudge around the corner, looking tired and disgruntled. They’re sharing a single tee-shirt between them, both heads poking from the collar. The front is scrawled with the words “Our Get Along Shirt.”

“Can that be on Tumblr too?” Steve whispers.

“Already posted.”

They’re followed by more people than Steve was expecting. Natasha and Clint, Rhodes and Pepper, Thor with his raccoon friend perched on his shoulder, and two others Steve does not recognize. They look vaguely familiar, but he can’t place them. A woman made of equal parts blue skin and metallic prosthetics, and a creature that appears to be living stone. That may have thrown Steve before he fought alongside a talking tree. General Okoye observes them all with a steady, mildly threatening, gaze.

Bruce gives Tony a shove under the shirt.

“I’m supposed to apologize for saving your life,” Tony grumbles.

“You’re supposed to apologize for not respecting his choice!” Bruce seethes.

“Tony,” Pepper warns.

Tony drops the petulance. “I’m sorry, Cap. I tried to do what you wanted, but we had the answer and I couldn’t just sit there and watch you die. I couldn’t…” Tony’s face collapses, “…not again…” he chokes on the words. Pepper pulls his head to her shoulder and strokes his hair.

“We all agreed to honor Steve’s wishes. You can’t just make unilateral decisions like that.” Bruce starts to pace but is pulled back by the shirt.

“But I’m good at it.” Tony sniffs.

“You’re really not,” Steve says.

“No, I’m not,” Tony agrees, all the fight gone out of him. “I’m a walking disaster. A disaster with too much money and a massive guilt complex.”

“And a heart condition and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder,” Pepper adds.

“Uh huh, that too. Thanks, sweetie.”

“For what it’s worth, I’m not angry with you,” Steve offers. Since admitting to his feelings for Bucky, Steve has found himself feeling more generous toward everyone.

“You’re not?” Tony looks genuinely surprised. Was he expecting Steve to leap out of the chamber and beat the tar out of him? Again?

“I do prefer life to death, as it happens.”

Natasha heaves a sigh of relief. “We’re so glad you aren’t dead, Rogers.”

“We really are, without you, those are our leaders.” Clint points to Bruce and Tony, currently debating whether they would sit or stand.

“I could lead,” Thor says.

“That would be fine too.” Clint shrugs.

The group starts talking among themselves, filling the lab with excited chatter.

“Um, guys? I’m still in the dark about what’s wrong with me,” Steve says over the ruckus.

“Oh right!” Tony stands, dragging Bruce up with him. “Show him, Powerpuff.”

“Tony, she’s royalty,” Rhodey chides. “You were only just released from the dungeon.”

Okoye’s steps toward Tony, her eyes narrowed.

“It’s okay, I love that show.” Shuri hands Steve a specimen tube containing a few grams of fine powder. “This is what we found when we tested your blood. Hold it to the light.”

Steve does as he’s told. The powder sparkles. “What is it?”

“Infinity Stones,” says Tony.

“Very very small ones. More like Infinity Sand,” adds Bruce. “That’s why the serum isn’t fighting the infections, it’s too busy trying to deal with the foreign objects in your blood.”

“It’s also probably how you teleported,” says Shuri. “There’s traces of the Space Stone in there. They must have reacted to your distress and taken you away.”

“Are there bits of the Time Stone too?”

“We’ve found all of them, except the Mind Stone. Why?”

“I’ve been seeing things. Moments from my past, even though I was always still here too. I thought I was hallucinating, but they were so vivid. I think I was in both times at once.”

“You probably should have mentioned that, buddy,” Bruce says.

“I sort of liked it. I also went to some place called Soul World. Guess that was the Soul Stone’s doing.”

“Again, that would’ve been good to know.”

“That was right before I teleported.”

“We don’t know how the Stones got into your bloodstream.” Tony strokes his chin with his available hand.

“I broke the gauntlet! When I was fighting Thanos. It was just a little crack but a mist came out. It must have gotten in through a wound.”

“That explains why we didn’t find the Mind Stone. He didn’t have it yet.” Bruce says. “Why didn’t you tell us you broke the gauntlet?”

“I didn’t know. I found out just before I died. This woman from Soul World showed me. Her name was…Gamera? No, Gamora!”

“Gamora?” the blue woman and raccoon say in unison.

“Who’s that now?” the rock person asks in an unexpectedly musical voice.

“Oh! That was you in the hall. You caught me.” Steve smiles at having figured one thing out on his own.

“Yes, this is my rock friend. I told you about him,” Thor says.

“Hello again, I’m Korg.” The rock man waves.

“I’m Steve.” Steve waves back.

“I’m made of rocks. And so are you. Just a little Infinity Stone humor for you.”

Steve clutches his chest, shaking with laughter. “That’s very funny."

“I know.”

“Go back. You saw my sister?” The blue woman interrupts.

“Who’s your sister?”

“Gamora.”

“That makes Thanos your father?”

“Adopted. Estranged.”

“Right,” Tony cuts in. “Steve, meet Nebula. Nebula, Steve. We survived Titan together.”

“And not even a snow globe to show for it,” Nebula mutters with a half-smile.

Steve knows that look. Spend an extended period of time with Tony Stark and you either come out wanting to kill him or with a slew of private jokes. Or both.

“If I have Infinity Stones in my blood, does that mean I can use them to kill Thanos? To bring everybody back?”

“I think you missed the part where they’re killing you, Steven,” says Shuri. “We’ve built a way to filter them out.”

“Basically, we’re going to remove all your blood and run it through a Vibranium centrifuge. Then put it back in, squeaky clean.” Tony flashes Steve his best “mad scientist” grin.

“How are you going to remove all my blood without killing me?”

“Slowly, carefully, one pint at a time. Cycle out a unit of infected blood then cycle in a unit of clean. It will take a while,” Bruce explains.

“Not that Bruce would care if you died.”

“Not funny, Tony.”

“A little funny. Cap, never forget that Bruce wanted you dead.”

“I’m not kidding, you don’t want to piss me off again.”

“Remember when we blamed all the bickering on Loki?” Thor muses. “Good times. I miss him.”

“Anyway, if it gets to be too much for you we can pause and put you back in stasis.”

“But the end result should be you, good as 1942 new. Plus, we have a bunch of shiny Infinity Stones to play with.” Tony rubs his hands together.

“We think there are enough of the particles in your blood to recreate one of each stone. And now that we know what to look for we can probably take traces of the Mind Stone from what’s left of Vision,” says Bruce.

“Which means you need to start thinking about which one you want.” Tony claps Steve on the shoulder.

“What?”

“We’ll have a complete set. Six Stones. Six original Avengers. Some coincidence, huh?” Natasha shrugs.

“Any one of us would be too easily corrupted with all of them. Particularly, me. Like I said, walking disaster. But if we each have one and we work together, we can kick the mad Titan’s ass, then undo what he did. Maybe use the Reality Stone to alter reality back to how it was before.”

“Which could spiral into creating infinite parallel universes. That would get messy.” Bruce shakes his head.

“Or, we use the Soul Stone to retrieve everyone from that Soul World place,” Clint suggests.

“Risking zombies,” says Shuri.

“Time Stone?” Thor tries.

“Paradoxes!” the three geniuses say as one.

“It needs to be workshopped. We’ll figure it out.” Tony waves away the problem.

“You’ll also need a way to wield the Stones without destroying yourself,” Nebula contributes. “That’s why my father had the gauntlet made. Even he can’t handle them unassisted.”

“Oh yeah, I know—knew a guy who was half Celestial.” Rocket nods. “Touched the Power Stone with his bare hands and almost blew the whole world to bits. Hysterical.”

“We’ll need material even more durable than Vibranium and someone to manipulate it,” Shuri says.

“I know a dwarf!” Thor interjects.

“And I know an 82-year-old contortionist named Ethel. What’s your point?” Tony asks.

The talk continues, Steve’s attention wanders. They can defeat Thanos. Steve doesn’t have to die. No one does. He’ll have one less regret weighing him down.

“Are you ready to start the treatments, Steven?”

“Fuck yes I’m ready. No, wait… can I shave first?” The beard is starting to itch.

“No, the beard is manly,” Thor protests.

“No, it’s terrible,” Tony argues, “but you don’t need to lose it completely. Just get it contoured. I can have my guy flown in.”

“Tony, the day I copy your facial hair is the day I’ve truly given up on life.”

* * *

 

There’s an uproar in the press when Captain America is confirmed to be alive after a new picture of him, disheveled and sporting a flower crown, is discovered on an anonymous Tumblr account. The uproar intensifies a few days later when the same account posts a video of a now clean-shaven Steve, wearing African robes. He speaks briefly about the fight with Thanos, implying that it isn’t as over as it seems. Then he comes out.

The headlines all shout some variation on CAPTAIN AMERICA, GAY!!!!!, ignoring that he came out as bisexual. Fox News calls to revoke his pardon, but there’s a lot of support for him online.

Steve hasn’t seen the reactions and wouldn’t care if he did. His focus is on the fight to come. Thanos must be dealt with before they can repair the damage he did to the universe. He and his gauntlet need to be destroyed utterly or he’ll just do it all again. They have a plan to bring the lost people back. Actually, they have an optimal plan using all six stones and an alternative plan per Infinity Stone. So that if one or more of them dies or their stone is lost, the mission can still succeed. Once the task is done, they’ll destroy their Infinity Stones.

Shuri asked Steve if he’ll tell Bucky how he feels once he’s returned. Steve told her he’d have to wait and see, but he’s made his decision. However Bucky reacts, he can handle it. No more secrets.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's it. I hope you had a good time with it. I've already started a sequel, which is looking like it's going to be a lot longer. I probably won't start posting it until it's close to finished.


End file.
